by Tya Marie
“You like it?” Quill asked after a minute of silence.
A grunt came from the head of the bed. How had I missed the tiny baby laying in the center of the bed? He was swaddled in a grey and blue blanket, most of his round face taken up by the pacifier and matching hat he wore.
My eyes flickered from the sleeping baby to Quill. “Does his mother know he’s here?” I whispered, stealing one last peek at him.
“She’s the one who told me to bring him around you.” When my facial expression didn’t change, he continued. “I know you’ve been having second thoughts about us, Kelsey, the main reason being how I split my time between you and my ‘family.’ I have to make sure they’re good, and I have to be here for you. It took a lot of thinking, but this is the only way that made sense to me. An apartment in a place where neither one of us has any roots. You can stay here as long as you want, and whenever I have Legacy I’ll be here too. You don’t have to help out with him if you don’t want to—”
Legacy spit his pacifier out of his mouth, wailing at the top of his lungs. Quill was quick to pick him up, walking him to the kitchen to make a bottle. Their exit gave me enough time to make a decision. Was this the life I wanted for myself? Could I accept that while I had Quill’s heart, I wouldn’t always have his time? My decision was on the tip of my tongue as I stood in the doorway of the kitchen listening to Quill talk to Legacy, who was barely contained by his pacifier.
“Hold on, little man. I’m coming, I’m coming with it,” he soothed the baby as he held him in his arms. “I know you’re hungry. I am too. Shit, Kelsey might be. I invited her over, and didn’t even think to order something to eat. Maybe I’ll surprise her with some crab legs…”
I slipped out of the doorway, returning to my spot on the bed. Quill returned a few minutes later, feeding Legacy along the way. He shot me an apologetic look.
“Like I was saying—”
“Can I feed him?” I asked.
Quill’s eyes widened. “You sure? Kelsey, you didn’t sign up to be a stepmother. Legacy is my responsibility.”
“Quill, I can’t be with you and not accept all parts of you, especially your responsibilities. I was freaked out over our future, but that’s what it is: the future. There’s no need to stress myself over it right now. Some people spend their entire lives looking for someone to make them feel the way you make me feel. I’m not going to throw away what we have over some fears.”
He nudged his head back toward the living room. “Wash your hands. I’ll show you how to feed him.”
The last time I held a baby it was my little cousin KJ when he was first born. He had that fresh baby smell, a mix of Johnson & Johnson’s and a mother’s love. I marveled over how tiny babies were. They depended on us for everything. Once upon a time I was this small and relied on my father for more than the average baby. Holding Legacy in my arms brought back those old feelings, ones I had pushed aside because I recalled how I didn’t have a mother; I had a Shahily, who took care of me in order to secure a bag. My heart thumped at the correlation. I didn’t want to be Legacy’s Shahily. As I fed the baby boy in my arms, I made a promise to love him the way I wished I had been by my stepmother. He deserved as much.
“Kelsey?” Quill called me from the doorway, smiling as I laid in bed with a slumbering Legacy.
My head snapped up. I had dozed off in the middle of rocking him to sleep. “Hmm?”
“You got a call.”
I yawned, snuggling Legacy to my chest. “Mmmm…it can wait.”
“Kelsey, this is the call.”
A surge of surprise shot through me. “You mean—?”
“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “Your connect wants to meet.”
__________
“Your grandfather set a lot of my success into motion,” Daddy said, staring out the window as we cruised down the West Side Highway. “He gave me the education needed to run my businesses, a handful of his most trusted associates as employees, but you know what’s the one thing I wasn’t given? A connect. I had to earn that all on my own.”
Rain fell from the sky in sheets so thick I could barely see the cars in front of me. I squeezed my steering wheel tight, mentally cursing myself for becoming complacent with my driving skills. Daddy offered to drive out of politeness, though we both knew he shouldn’t drive in this weather. I declined, coming up with the excuse of needing independence, the blow softer than telling my father who I trusted with my life that I wasn’t able to trust him behind the wheel. Being that he was unable to drive, Daddy proved himself useful by keeping my mind off of the impending meeting with conversation.
“How did you find one?”
The question elicited a laugh. “He found me.”
“Why?”
“I murdered his entire New York City network.”
“What?” I squawked. My head pivoted between the road and my father, unable to decide which one was more important.
Daddy shrugged. “This isn’t elementary school, Kelsey. If you want something you don’t ask nicely—you take it. I took what I believed belonged to me. This city was once run by my father, and upon his departure those who wanted it struck during our time of grief. Some, like Mr. H, had the means to protect their territory even if it meant having it sit dry while we figured out our next move. I had him pass a message through the entire team to be still.”
“Did they?”
He nodded. “Their product dried up within a month. I let people set up shop, make a little bread, see who came through with what. Those who had the insignia on their stuff got taken out. So many murders it caught the attention of the Feds. They thought a gang war was going to break out.” A pregnant paused filled the car, creating tension so thick I could barely stand it. “He showed up on my doorstep, flashing a badge and shit. Granny saw right through him, and to this day she’s the only person to know his identity.”
I pulled up to a hotel situated across from Central Park West. Daddy kissed me on the forehead, promising me that no matter what the outcome of this meeting was, he would always be proud of how far I’d come. I stepped out of the car, covered by an umbrella Terry held for me. We entered the hotel, making a beeline for the restaurant on the right. A surge of gratitude rushed through me for taking my father’s advice on keeping a spare set of dress clothes in the trunk of my security’s car at all times. Had I not, I would’ve felt underdressed in the upscale salon. My eyes scanned the occupied tables, searching for the man I was supposed to be meeting. In a far corner clouded by smoke sat a middle-aged black man. He was dressed in a smart designer suit, a Bruno Magli loafer clad foot appearing at the side of his table. Terry placed a gentle hand on my upper back, guiding me in the direction of his table. He rose from his seat, revealing an impressive physique beneath his Thomas Pink shirt, and extended his hand to me.
“Nice handshake,” he complimented, welcoming me to take a seat. “Learn it in Washington DC? I see you lived there for three years. What made you leave?”
“My father’s illness,” I said, fingering the stem of the empty wine glass in front of me.
He nodded his head in understanding. “My wife died during childbirth, forcing me to take on the responsibility of being both parents. While I would never want my daughter to follow in my footsteps, I hope she grows up to have the same fierce devotion to me as you do to Urban.”
I sat back in my seat, taking a better look at the man in front of me. Unlike the former members of The Trust, he spoke with sincerity. My age, inexperience, my gender—none of them perturbed him in the slightest. It was almost as if he saw me as his equal.
“I’m sure by now your father told the story of how we became acquainted. He placed me in a position to need him as much if not more than he needed me. The game isn’t what it used to be back in the 90’s. Times have changed as well as my status. My network spans across this country and overseas. I can easily have another distributor on a plane to take your place tonight. Please explain to me why I shouldn’t.”
I glanced around the room. None of the people dining paid me the slightest bit of attention. “I don’t usually like to play this card, but you’re going to work with me because I’m Urban Mackenzie’s daughter. No, I’m not going to run around the city picking off your employees to make myself be known, but I can assure you of one thing: I am shamelessly devoted to this game. I have survived being sex trafficked to another country; not many, if any, of your employees can say as such. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I was kidnapped by my own team and buried alive. I have been victimized, traumatized, mentally beaten down, and never once have I considered folding. That is why you should place me in charge because after everything I’ve been through, my desire to sit in front of you asking for this opportunity should be enough to show you how serious I am. Unlike the men you can fly in to take over, none of them are me, and regardless of how much experience they boast, none of them will ever get as close to achieving everything Urban Mackenzie has except for me.”
Terry sat up a bit straighter in his seat. A waiter came around asking if I would like a glass of wine. I shot my future boss a look, as if asking if I would be staying in his presence for much longer. Without taking his eyes from mine, he replied, “The lady will not have a glass of wine.” My heart dropped. “Instead, we’ll take a bottle of champagne. Tonight, we’re celebrating. To the next generation.”
I raised my empty wine glass. “To the next generation.”
Untitled
Six months later…
10
Kelsey
The sound of the 3:15 am J train jarred me from a light slumber. On any other night I could sleep through the train traffic, loud music from cars passing by, and arguments from drunk people on the sidewalk below us. However, on this particular Saturday night, I was tossing and turning every time a train passed, reminding me of the empty space next to me. Quill still wasn’t home. I had left several messages on his phone, starting casual and ending with panic. He was out in the streets working hard, or at his place with Drea in Williamsburg. Neither one would keep him from me, which caused worry to set in. I didn’t want to be that girlfriend—the one who checked up on her boyfriend’s whereabouts through his friends—but after five hours of trying to reach out I was desperate. Eric picked up on the second ring. Wherever he was, the music was bumping. I could hear some girls in the background, a little too close for comfort.
“Eric,” I said, sitting up in bed. “Where’s Quill?”
“Who the fuck is that, Eric?” I heard an agitated voice ask in the background.
There was a tousle with the phone, and Eric replied, “Get your hands off of my fucking phone, Chastity. This is Quill’s girl looking for him.”
“That’s all you had to say!” Chastity screeched.
Eric asked me to hold on as he traveled through the club. I moved the phone from my ear until his background quieted. “Kelsey?”
“I’m still here. Eric, when was the last time you spoke with Quill? I’ve been calling him all night, and he hasn’t picked up.”
“Lemme see,” he said. To someone in the background, he asked in a low voice, “What time did we make our re-up?” Pause. “The last time I saw him was about five, maybe six. He had to make a few drop offs on the other side of town. Why don’t I call around to see if he made them?”
A jingling could be heard throughout the silent apartment. I listened to the familiar jamming of keys into a lock, followed by heavy footsteps. “No need to; he’s home.”
“Aight, tell him to give me a call in the morning. Goodnight, sis,” he said, ending the call.
I leapt out of bed, storming through our closet, flicking on lights on my way. Quill hit the ones in the living room as he made a beeline for the kitchen. I found him rummaging through the fridge, cup in hand, humming some Da Baby song. His back was to me, but I knew he could feel the hole I was staring into the back of his head.
“William Evans, I have been calling you all night!” I screamed. “I know you aren’t about to act like you didn’t see any of my calls or messages! You better have a damn good explanation for ignoring me.”
His shoulders sagged. “I just had the longest night of my life. If I wanted to have my peace disrupted by screaming, I would’ve went home to listen to Drea and her shit.”
That shut me right up. “I thought this was your home?”
“Kelsey…”
“No,” I said, backing out of the doorway, hurrying to the bedroom to keep him from seeing the tears brimming in my eyes. They slid down my cheeks with no remorse.
Swiping away my frustrations, I called my security, alerting them of my departure. Too upset to drive, I requested a car wait out front for me. Quill wrapped one arm around my waist and the other took my phone from my ear.
“Terry, she doesn’t need a car. Everything is fine,” Quill slurred into my phone.
I elbowed him in the stomach, shrugging out of his grip. “You’re drunk? Everything is not fine. Give me my phone, William. I’m not playing with you!”
“Miss Mackenzie, we’re coming up,” Terry said, ending the call.
Quill threw my phone against a wall. “Where you going?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders. “Back to your daddy’s house? Or are you going to see that nigga Pieces? What type of fucking name is Pieces?”
The front door was damn near kicked off the hinges. Terry entered the apartment with his team, guns raised as they converged on the bedroom, placing themselves between Quill and me. My power play angered Quill, who punched the vanity mirror, breaking the glass into a million pieces. I instinctively grabbed for him and was pushed back by Terry, who refused to place me in the path of any danger. He took his second chance at redemption serious, to the point where I regretted making the call.
“Quill, cut it the fuck out! You’re drunk and you won’t remember any of this tomorrow,” I urged him from over Terry’s shoulder. “All I wanted to know was where you’ve been and you can’t even give me a straight answer!”
“Working!” Quill shouted. “Making sure the rent on this place gets paid! Being a faithful boyfriend since that’s all you’ll ever let me be. Where the fuck were you the other night? We still ain’t got an answer for that!”
I pursed my lips. “You know I can’t discuss official business—”
“I don’t give a fuck about your business! I want to know why my woman was seen walking out of a hotel with a man that ain’t me!”
“Like I said,” I repeated through gritted teeth. “We were discussing business, and if you can’t take my word on it, I might as well pack my shit.”
My phone started ringing off the hook, defusing the situation for only a moment. It was my father. There was only one reason why he would call me this late at night. I pretended to be half asleep, answering with a groggy, “Hello?”
“Kelsey,” he said. “There is someone who wants to meet you.”
The anger I was feeling melted away. “How many pounds? Ounces? Inches?” My voice dropped, “Is the baby breathing okay?”
“Everything is fine. Ten fingers and toes. Breathing is perfect. Normani is doing just fine.” Daddy laughed. “Now get here so you can meet your little brother. He’s waiting on you.”
__________
Normani sat in the center of her queen sized hospital bed gazing down at Uriah Ulysses Edward Mackenzie Jr., holding him snug in her arms as if he might evaporate. Daddy was laid in the bed beside them, shirt off, holding Normani in his arms. They resembled one of those black love greeting cards. I felt uncomfortable ruining the intimate moment, and contemplated giving them some more time to enjoy the baby without me. Normani caught a hint of my jacket as I took a step back, her eyes lighting up at my appearance. Daddy did the same, rising from the bed and crossing the executive hospital suite to greet me with a hug.
“Is he sleeping?” I asked, tossing aside my jacket and making a beeline for a sink. “I don’t even know why I’m asking like I care. All I want is to hold him…”
Normani gave him a little Eskimo kiss, handing him to me with yearning in her tired eyes. “While the two of you bond, I am going to take a nap. I love the end product, but labor has me worn out.”
My little brother was a butterball—eight pounds, five ounces—of cuteness. I got comfortable in an overstuffed rocking chair, talking to him as I tried out nicknames. He grunted at some, smiled at a few, and as the sun came up we had narrowed it down to Chunky and Cheeks. Daddy and Normani were curled up in bed together, snoring on cue. I rolled my eyes it was so damn cute.
“Growing up I was spoiled because of my condition, but you are going to be super spoiled because I’m your big sister,” I told Chunky, who poked his lips out. “By the time I’m done with you you’re going to have all of them wrapped around your finger just like me. The puppy dog pout is mine, though I’m willing to let you borrow it for important things.”
Chunky smiled in his sleep.
“Our dad is old,” I said, mouthing the last word. “But he is one of the best fathers you could ask for. Sometimes you’re going to be mad at him because you won’t be able to do certain things that the other kids can do—like I used to—just know he has a good reason for everything. I’ll always be here for you, especially on the days where Daddy won’t be in the best condition and your mom will have to take care of him.”
Daddy’s Parkinson’s diagnosis remained a sore subject. My kidnapping left his hands tied—literally. My father never admitted it, but I knew having to rely on Quill to save me bothered him. His condition hadn’t improved, leading Normani to make a request on behalf of his unborn child. Daddy relented, starting on medication to manage his Parkinson’s a week later. The tremors subsided a month later, reappearing whenever he was agitated. It stole a small piece of him that appeared as he held his son in his arms.
